Paramnesia
by AsherAnd
Summary: 100 hours left till Gotham burns for the last time, Mr. Crane. Time to think on your sins. {Warning: Features an OC Prominently. Pleas R & R, whetehr the review is good, bad, or lukewarm.}


**par·am·ne·sia**

/ˌparamˈnēZHə/

Noun  
_A condition or phenomenon involving distorted memory or confusions of fact and fantasy, such as déjà vu._

"What the hell do you want, Jonathan?" She looked different than she did at the Initiative. He supposed he should have expected that. It had been four years, after all. She wasn't sitting in a straight jacket locked up inside of a padded cell. She wasn't pale anymore and her hair had grown. Her figure had filled back out, and she stood straight now, not hunched over with a blank expression on her face. Jonathan mentally filed away the differences and noted that she wasn't the same as before. She didn't look at him with fear in her eyes, or mindless affection. Asanko just looked, if he was quite honest, cocky. A self-assured smirk dominated her face and she sat on a gilded throne, her hands on its arms and one leg crossed over the other. She was a Queen in her court, and had no reason to be afraid of ghosts from the past. After Bane had put him in charge of the Gotham courts, he'd had access to sealed files, and her's had been one of the first on his desk. Asanko Michi Jameston. The Killer Queen. She was to be put to death for refusing to let her 'court' join Bane's forces and mocking his authority. She posed a threat, and the self-proclaimed savior of Gotham couldn't have any threats to his reign around. Jonathan kept pushing her case onto the back-burner, but after the fifth time, he knew that Bane had picked up on the pattern. For all his brawn, the masked man had genius level intellect. No, Crane didn't want to kill her, but soon he wouldn't have a choice. Time was winding down for him, and Bane's reign. Though no one dared oppose him openly like Asanko, police men had started gathering and weapons were being passed out. War was coming to the city, and it was unavoidable. Once more, cursed himself for allowing the dark lure of Gotham's underworld to pull him back in. He'd been safe, holed up in Star City, but the news of a dark uprising had stirred the Scarecrow from his long slumber and sent him straight back to his old friend's open arms.

After the effective upheaval of society came to fruition, Bane had appointed him Judge over Gotham and the fun had begun. He'd seen faces of his old enemies pass before him time and time again, and over and over, he had watched him beg for their lives and reveal the type of person they truly were. There were of course, those who'd been good, really good until the finish. Who'd chosen death over the coward's way out. He'd enjoyed it at first, playing God and deciding who lived and who died, but when his victims got less and less interesting, he became bored. Soon instead of activists and heroes, he was sentencing petty thieves and arsonists, then teenagers who'd simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. As the days dragged on, they slowly became weeks, and weeks blurred into months, and suddenly he'd looked up and there'd been a week left of his life. The thought of time running out was what had landed him in front of the Killer Court that were less than 100 hours remaining in Gotham's lifespan, and he'd realized he didn't want to die alone surrounded by people who neither knew him nor cared to. He was one of the privileged few who knew the truth, but he didn't care. At least, he hadn't until a few days ago when he'd gotten the nagging feeling that he'd accomplished absolutely nothing with his life. If he was completely honest, he was afraid to be alone when this all ended and Gotham went up in flames for the last time. Like those he'd sentenced, he was, at heart, a coward. Pathetic. He straightened his tie and smoothed out the front of his jacket. No matter what he felt, Jonathan made a point to maintain an air of nonchalance and apathy.

"A chance to speak. With you. " The members of the court present watched him warily and his eyes narrowed. Was this girl ever without her watchdogs? "Alone."

He could see the irritation boiling beneath her surface, but her expression didn't change. He knew that the chances of her listening to anything he had to say were slim to none, especially after what he'd put her through. She gestured for one of her guards to move closer, never once for a moment taking her eyes off of the pale, lanky man in front of her. The girl nodded and strode off down a side corridor, shutting the door after her and locking it. The chamber was silent for a few moments before Asanko stood, descended from her throne and grabbed a half-empty bottle of Vodka from a gilded side table. She poured some of it into a glass goblet and stared at it for a few moments before laughing dryly and taking a swig straight from the bottle. She whirled around suddenly, her hazel eyes fixed on him. The woman's movements were catlike in grace and tense as well, like a snake coiling up before it struck. She circled him, sticking close to the wall. "So who sent you? Bane? Is it my turn to be 'tried' by you?" Her tone was almost mocking and Jonathan adjusted his glasses, corners of his mouth tilting downward in response.

"It wasn't my decision to be made judge. My position was given to me by Bane-"

"Oh, yes, our savior." She spat the word out like it was poison and took another swig of her alcohol. Crane raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you underage still?" She gave another dry laugh and raised the bottle in his direction.

"Never stopped you." He didn't quite know how to respond to that. Pointing out that she was breaking the law was hypocritical, even for him, especially given his position. He wasn't off to a great start, but he wasn't the type to give up simply because the odds weren't in his favor. My how she'd changed. The trembling young girl who'd been terrified of getting the death penalty for the accidental murder of a gang member was gone. The Killer Queen he'd created in his chase from the perfect Metamorphosis toxin had eaten her.

"Asanko, that isn't fair-"

"Don't talk to me about fair, Jonathan!" The soundwaves she released cracked the glass end table and the lens of one of his glasses. He hadn't expected her to use her abilities, even a minor one, against him. Shards of the Vodka bottle came sailing toward him next. "You know what _isn't fair_?" She hissed, moving closer to him as she launched into a speech, her eyes narrowed and her teeth bared. He did. He knew exactly what, by her standards, was unfair, and he cared about as much now as he had then: Not at all. Yet, here she was, bringing up wrongs of a time gone by. He hardly remembered what had gone on at Cadmus, much less who had been allowed around his charge, but apparently she did, in perfect detail. Her voice brought him out of the shadowed confines of his mind and back toward the present. "...and Asanko is dead." He hadn't really been paying attention, he'd admit, but the last line had caught his attention. He flinched. Asanko had pressed into his skin with the force of a punch. That was sure to bruise. "You killed her. 'member?" She imitated her voice from the years gone by and he rolled his eyes as she stepped closer in a pathetic attempt to intimidate him. One thing that hadn't changed was her height. The blue-haired girl had been the same height now as she had been four years ago. Still the perfect height to fit right under his chin. Back when he'd been trying to manipulate her into loving him, he used to hold her for hours, telling her everything would be fine and the experiments wouldn't hurt as much next time. He'd gotten her to love him eventually,and manipulated her into giving him her complete and total trust, but in the process, he'd killed her humanity. He'd thought it worth it. If she had no childhood to speak of, no innocence to be found, she would be all the easier to control.

"I am aware what transpired-"

"Oh, goodie. I was worried I was going to have to remind you." Asan- no. She'd said it herself. The girl who'd borne the name Asanko was dead. Killer Queen strode back to her throne and took a seat, kicking her legs over the left arm. "So once more, I pose the question, 'What the hell do you want?' "

"I already told you." She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you. I don't need you more." She was lying, that much was evident. Maybe she didn't want him anymore, but she did need him. He'd hard wired it into her. He was her handler, and that relationship would always exist whether she wished it so or not. Jonathan looked away from her and down at the cold tiled floor, calculating his next move. "You feel that hole inside you? That's called loneliness. Most people have a heart there that they can fill up with people they love." She closed her eyes and removed her crown, placing it on top of her stomach and putting her hands behind her head, dismissing him.

"If you think I'm lonely, that I need people around me to keep me happy, than you seriously underestimate me." It was laughable, really. Jonathan watched closely the monster he'd created and for the first time in his life felt a sliver of guilt invade his soul, or at least the place where his soul had been. The Killer Queen and her court had exceeded their projected growth and doubled their size annually without fail. They should have fizzled out and died within the first few months like the other groups had, but they didn't. They'd survived long past their expiration probably wasn't a member of the Court who still needed its handler.

He honestly didn't know what foolish thoughts he'd been entertaining when he'd come to the Court. His former charge had been the only thing he'd ever had remotely close to a friend, so... he guessed he'd thought she would just start crying and crawl back to him like before. He had a Psychology degree. He should have known better. Asanko had had Stockholm Syndrome, but years spent away from her captor would have given her exactly the type of clarity needed to shatter any delusions he'd forced into her mind. She'd truly outgrown him. Jonathan turned to leave, but came face to face with a tall, lanky, blonde-haired man. He was about two seconds away from pushing past him, but he spotted the AK-47 strapped to his back, and figured he might let him make the first move. The doctor reached into his pocket, fingering the small canister of fear toxin he'd thought to bring.

**'Don't'** A voice seemed to echo from the ceiling, loud and jarring, sending tremors through his bones. His look of surprise must have shown, because a snicker sounded from the throne.

"Whatever Blue just told you to do, I'd listen. He's got a nasty habit of using that gun on people. Azucar and Gretl too." She pointed upward and the sharp sound of metal against metal caught his attention. Two more people were seated on top of two of the stone columns that dominated the entrance to the chamber. Both of them were wearing Gotham Private Academy uniforms, and the eldest, a blonde wearing heavy eye make-up, who looked to be about 18, was sharpening the knife end of a bayonette, while the younger, a small dark-skinned girl with blue eyes, loaded two large pistols. She couldn't have been more than thirteen, and yet here she was, in the den of one of the largest powered organizations in the country. The girl blew a pink bubble with her gum, popped it and brought it back into her mouth, examining her barrel and firing a test shot into the air.

**'Put your hands in the air. Drop all your weapons, or anything that might be considered a weapon, then follow me.'** Hm. A telepath. He'd seen a good deal of powered beings in his time working on the Metamorphosis project, but even among his circle, Telepaths were considered to be a myth. Where did Asanko find these people? Jonathan removed the canister of fear toxin and dropped it onto the floor. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, opened it wide and slid off his shoulder holsters, letting them fall in a heap. The knife in his pocket came next and he held up his hands, symbolizing he was done.

"Jonathan, I'm insulted!" Asanko exclaimed with mock hurt. "No small army?" The man she'd called Blue captured her attention for a moment and he watched as they had a mental conversation. Killer Queen rose from her throne and strutted across the room, prouder than a peacock. She had good reason, didn't she? Crane had feeling she was enjoying the role-reversal. She had her former mentor and guardian, the man who'd lied to her and played with her mind like it was a puzzle he could piece together in any way he pleased, was here on her playing field, under her control. She put a hand on one of the stone walls and it slid to the side, revealing another darkened corridor which she stepped into without the slightest hesitation. Blue shoved him in next, and paused, listening. He nodded and turned on his heel to go, just as the door slid shut and they were plunged into darkness.

"Follow me." Asanko ordered from the darkness. He didn't really have much of a choice. He didn't know the layout of this underground complex, and the last thing he wanted was to be abandoned in this blackness. So, he followed, minding the sound of her footsteps and being careful to not get to close to her. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Asanko would snap his wrist if her attempted to touch her. While they walked through endless twists and turns, up around corners and down through twists in the hall, he had time to think. He'd been foolish. His desperation to not be alone in the last hours of his life had clouded his judgement, as had the alcohol he'd been drinking. He was in the belly of the beast. Asanko owed him nothing, and if she killed him now, the bond he'd implanted in her would be severed and she'd truly be free. This was a huge mistake, and one he couldn't escape from.

Crane had been so caught up in his musings, that he almost hadn't noticed the tiny sliver of light coming from a crack in the wall ahead of them. Killer Queen touched it and it slid open with a hiss, leading them into a large, octagonal room filled with people. They were there in all colors and sizes, the youngest being an infant held in a young girls arm's to a group of men with salt-and-pepper hair, watching him as he followed their leader toward the center and yet another throne. Blue seemed to slide from shadow and he stepped between Crane and The Queen. The blonde looked the doctor up and down, his face unreadable.

**'She will address the lower courts and then you. You will comply with whatever she asks, or I will kill you. Do you understand, Mr. Crane?'**

'It's Doctor, actually.' Blue shook his head.

**'Your license was revoked. Thus, I will refer to you as Mister, and nothing else.'** By the time Blue had withdrawn from his mind, Asanko was already speaking.

"... captive for two long years. He, along with the other supposed 'masters' of the Alpha intiative created most of us, and when we made our escape he swore what?"

"That he would end us all!" A grey-haired teenager shouted out, and his cry was soon taken up by those around him.

"Indeed, he did." Asanko spun around, her hazel eyes narrowed to slits.

"And yet, he had the boldness...No, the unfettered audacity to walk into our fortress and request to speak with me. " A hush has fallen over the room and her subjects watched her, their eyes wide as if her injustices were their own. She had them in the palm of her hand, and they looked ready to go war, to fight any enemy and topple any wall for their ruler. She truly was a master at manipulating words. "Has he forgotten?" She asked her subjects, but Jonathan knew the question was directed at him. "Has he chosen to ignore the torture and pain he put me...put all of the Alpha Initiative testers through?" Asanko turned away. "Perhaps he has. Shall Blue remind him?" They practically screeched their assent, and Jonathan found himself being shoved into a chair and bound. It was too late to struggle now. As he was wheeled to the center of the cavernous room, he searched the crowd, picking out faces he remembered.

Back by a toppled marble column, the brothers Icarus and Gabriele perched, their wings posed for a speedy take to the air should one be needed. Dread was positioned on the floor, tossing a fire ball back and forth between his hands and staring him down with as much hate as he could muster. There were others there too, some who'd previously tried the hero route and failed. Racket stood in a corner, protective headphones over her ears and head bobbing to a sound likely only she could hear. There were dozens more, scattered among the crowd, watching, waiting. All of them had been changed by his associates and he'd programmed them, each and every one, pulling out their memories and beliefs and replacing them with thoughts that aligned with the Alpha Initiative's own. He settled back and resigned himself to the fact that there was no escape from whatever the Killer Queen had in mind for him. He was yanked to a rough stop and his head was jerked backward as Blue placed his hands on either side of Jonathan's face and expanded his mind. The Doctor's eyes widened and he opened his to cry out in pain as his mind was torn and he was yanked backward into the past.


End file.
